Platinum Light
by CoolyCakeCove
Summary: Japan's brightest student wants to end it all into the nothingness of death. Unbeknownst to him, where death is, there exists life and second chances.(Platinum End and Death Note combination, two manga created by the same people.)
1. Volume I: Light

_Japan's brightest student wants to end it all into the nothingness of death. Unbeknownst to him, where death is, there exists life and second chances..._

 **Platinum Light**

 _Death Note taking place in the world of Platinum End._

 **Disclaimers:** _Platinum End_ is the creation of the owners of _Death Note_. This only exists to bring more popularity to the manga. Neither is owned by me and all characters belong to their creators.

 **Rating:** Teen. Not much awful swearing, but there exists mentions of violence and violent things. Mentions of suicide and depression.

 **Length:** 3417, average 15 minutes.

 **Notes:** Mainly supernatural thriller written in third-person, present tense. May have drama and mystery, it depends. I rather like Platinum End, though it's too bad it's not that popular. I can't talk to my friends about it. Platinum End does have questionable content for younger audiences, so view with caution. I recommend 16+ should read. Platinum End is really similar to _Mirai Nikki_ (also not owned by me).

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Volume I: Light

Chapter I

 **Light** _(Pilot)_

Can there exist a more troublesome characteristic than intelligence? It's maddening to see how being well-informed of the world and able to innovate only appears to cause more harm than good. Ignorance will continue to exist. More and more humans sacrifice knowledge for the power to control others through money. With more knowledge comes the awareness of all the flaws and faults of humans and the world. Knowledge can lead one to depression and madness.

A high school senior thinks as much as he strolls through his school grounds, shoulders back, chin high, eyes blank. He is the epitome of an intelligent student, one with flawless scores and a large gap existing between him and second place. To his heart, however, school is no place for the intelligent. He feels like an animal within a corporation's greedy hands, pumped with steroids and other unnatural products to make him look good and taste good to the public masses. He must do well in the barn because no one will buy him. He must be more expensive than the rest. He must be more refined. He will be slaughtered, wrapped, and frozen until he receives his price tag. Only then will he know of his fate: to be sold to the hands of the elite or to become the food for a family in poverty.

There exists uncertainty after he will be sold. What will his owners do to him? Will they have a first class chef chop him up to make him the most divine meal one could ever taste? Or will he be carelessly added to an overpriced salad or thrown to the elite's pets?

It's that uncertainty that makes him despise trying to be something at all. To him, this world is _rotten_. His world can be summed up as an apple: a beautiful scarlet face and healthy appearance while remaining spoiled to the core. The seeds are corrupted and the apples grown from those seeds will be just as corrupted as their parents.

As such, the high school senior deems life as hell.

" _Sempai_! I can't believe you're at school right now! You have cram school, huh, _sempai_?" Underclassmen who see him as the high-class student call for his attention. The senior stops and looks over his shoulder, smiling at them with the innocence of a child. The smile does not bring joy to his soul, only an ever-growing weariness.

"I left something in class. Even I can be forgetful," he explains with a casual tone.

"Need help, _sempai_? We're always here!"

"Thank you for your kindness, but I can handle this task my own. Good evening." He chuckles to himself as the underclassmen leave him alone, oblivious to the boy's true emotions.

Dusk makes the shadows longer, blacker, heavier. The shadows that engulf him as he walks the deserted classroom corridors give weight to his body, making every step more of an effort. The further away the noise of after school programs and staff members becomes, the more he lets his shoulders slump and his footsteps sound less crisp and purposeful and more of a slur. The hallway leading to his classroom has mentions of the top student's achievements, how the student is the brightest in Japan. That boy has bright eyes and life within his body. He is a fragment of the past.

In the present, the senior shrugs open the door, formerly locked but he had broken the lock yesterday. Bright gold blinds him and dyes his eyes colors as he steps forward into the warmth. Wind blows around him. The noise of extracurricular activities picks up again. He opens his eyes, squinting under the setting sun, and peers at the world kilometers above ground. He is in control on this rooftop. In control of what, he does not know. He is already in control of the school's social ladder. The students here worship him or are envious of him. It doesn't matter now. The senior drops his schoolbag and slips off his shoes, black socks pressing against the heated ground of August.

He shuffles to the edge of the roof. Below him is the deepest area of the school, roughly eight meters below the school's level. The depression in the ground was formed years ago due to a fireworks mishap. Today, it is suitable for making sure he receives extra damage when he hits the ground. The first to see it will be the athletic students working outside. Then the nurse as the nurse's office was built to be as close as possible to the sports field. Maybe the police would arrive next if the students move slow enough. Then his father will know first and will be forced to break the news to their family.

 _I never thought sempai would be the one to do this. He's always happy and working hard. I don't know why he was hurting._

 _He was quiet sometimes. I guess you have to watch out for those kinds, huh._

 _Nothing on him? That's really selfish. How's his family going to know why he killed himself without a suicide note? He did it for attention._

 _Sempai wouldn't do this! He was_ _ **murdered**_ _!_

He closes his eyes. He will not have to be the one to deal with the responses of anyone in the future. School is the best place for him to meet his end. At home, his mother and little sister could see his corpse. He doesn't want to stain any public place with his blood, except for here. He met his rise to fame here. This building threatens to tear him apart. Yes, it is almost romantic to die in a place like this.

He steps on the short railing, smells the bitter city air, and lets himself fall forward.

Time slows down. He's able to look around himself, at the world he is leaving behind. He has no regrets. No connections to reality. He feels liberated.

He lets the world go black, content with his last view and wishes for the end.

The senior feels warmth spread around his waist and the wind changes direction to behind his head, coming from the sky. Gingerly, he opens an eye, then the other. He is not reduced to a corpse as he hopes, nothing is on the ground that gets further and further away.

The senior looks above him, aware of a shadow looming over his body.

 _She_ has a pale body with wavy, shiny hair that frames her curvy body perfectly, a cocoon. She seems to shimmer under the golden light. Some of the luminosity radiates from her skin and _wings_. They're lovely. They're pure white. The bits of feathers that fall look as soft as baby's skin and weigh nothing. Her face is perfect. Casually, she gazes down under the intensity of his stare, a scarlet halo floating above her head. Her visible eye is a pure red, like sweet red wine and blood. Her perfect lips smile, pearly whites showing in the gap.

"You are not dead just yet, my human," she purrs. "Your guardian angel has saved you."

 _Guardian angel?_ Angels exist? One of them saved him before his death? The senior worries that he'll forget the knowledge of angels and thinks of a way to retain his memory of her before she takes it all away.

"Do not be afraid. No one can see us. It is because of my magic keeping us hidden. How bothersome would that be attracting the attention of nosy humans?" she says into his ear, pulling his body close to hers. _Warmth. Security._

"As your angel, I understand you better than yourself. You want death, that is true. Yet, you want something else, no? Come on, didn't you say you hate how rotten this world is?"

The senior's breath hitches. He has never disclosed his personal thoughts to family or paper. He doesn't like talking out loud by himself. She must be real or this is a hallucination and he is dead like he wants.

"You want a chance to purify this world. That is why you wish to join law enforcement when you graduate. You struggle between the misfortune of intelligence and your undying standards of morality. I have been by your side for many, many years. I have a chance to make your dream come true. Will you take it?"

"I want justice," he murmurs, watching the school building blur with the dozens of gray buildings in his city. "But I hate this rotten, boring world."

The angel's lips curve into a satisfied smile. The senior notes how shiny and captivating her entire appearance is. Is this the beauty of otherworldly creatures?

"What if I told you it is possible for you to change the world with your hands in a way far more effective than law enforcement," she asks, a trite rhetorical.

"That's...not possible." His logic tries to comprehend the limitations of an _angel_. With so little information, he deems the angel as limitless. "Can you really do that?"

"I _can_ , though you will be doing your part to make it happen. I cannot interfere with your world for I do not actually exist. I can give _you_ the power to make that change."

The senior's heart pulses. It scares him momentarily. He hasn't felt this much in years. The power to make his change now rather than wait the long way suffering through school is intriguing. "You can?"

"Yes. You just need to will yourself to live once more. If you continue to want to die, you may die."

He blinks, mind racing. The angel's words are music to him. It's a reason to start living again, to perform his own change, this time with more power, not some student who's dreading the day fate grows cruel and kills him senselessly. But the boredom of the world will still persist, won't it?

"You must make a decision. Are you still uncertain of what I offered to you?"

"I understand. I...can't accept immediately."

"Why not?" The angel sounds oblivious as the underclassmen. "You want this. Why do you hesitate?"

"This could be a big dream, or you could be the devil in disguise." The possibilities are equally likely. Likewise, this could be an elaborate prank. He'll _destroy_ the person who managed to crack his mind.

"Oh. You do not think I exist." She does not sound too bothered. She seems to have expected it. "I thought this was proof, but I underestimated how humans love lying to themselves. I have no idea how to convince a liar, therefore I will force you to chose rather than stay neutral and worry."

The senior tries to see if her face is as solemn as her voice, but her white locks tickle his face as she looks up. "What are you saying, creature?"

"You should choose. Ready? Let's go."

He watches her, dazed, and the warmth around his waist is gone. As his stomach turns to lead, he is acutely aware of how cold the air is.

He falls, twisting his head to see his guardian angel floating in the air growing smaller.

He screams on instinct.

He calculated several times, the distance from the roof to the lowest point of the school. He calculated how long and fast he should fall, correctly predicted he would die instantaneously and not die slowly while doctors struggled to save him.

He didn't account for hitting the ground hundreds of kilometers in the air. Although common sense tells him certain _death_.

Wind whips around him, picking up speed every second. Heat starts up around him. For a moment, he's terrified he might burst into a ball of flames and burn to death before splattering the ground. He can't think, can't breathe. Why is death so terrifying now when he felt nothing before?

"Will you choose, my human?"

His angel's golden voice stirs some kind of sense into his mind. The angel falls next to him, far more graceful and in control than he.

"You must hurry if you do not choose death. I am certain that the shock will stop your heart soon. I cannot revive dead humans," the angel says in an attempt to help. "It is very...tricky."

He stares at her, mouth agape, horrified. _No_ , he refuses to die like this. Not like an unidentifiable red splatter. Not with a chance to realize his dream. Whether or not the angel is truly the devil himself and he must sell his soul, aren't suicides damned in hell? And while living and death are both unbearable states of existence, at least he can make an impact in the world of the living.

He fights against the current of the air to stretch his empty palm to the angel.

The angel sees his hand and rights herself. The sun is just behind her, outlining her body and wings with golden rays as her smooth as pearls hand takes his palm. Her warm fingers close around his hand. Her bright cherry eyes are narrow yet shining.

"You have made your decision," she hums.

The world stills. He no longer falls.

The angel taps her red halo and three more appear at once.

"For you, to achieve your dreams, I give you _love_ , _freedom_ , and _choice_. So long as you maintain the will to live and survive, you will pursue your dreams." The halos float to the boy, wrapping themselves around his neck and twice around his right wrist, a small halo within a bigger one. They are as red as the angel's eyes.

"The halo around your neck allows for flight," the angel says, calmly running her fingers through her waves. "Release your wings and right yourself like me."

Tired of being upside down, he follows her order. He imagines freedom from weight of the words. The halo around his neck brightens until he hears a _whoosh_ and some control is given to him. He turns himself upright and bask in the majesty of wings as crystal white as his angel's.

"Excellent. The wings take to their owner kindly. No one will be able to see your wings or halos, though humans can still see your floating body. Let's go somewhere where there is less people."

The senior gulps. Flying should be easy...so he wills his wings to take him to a quiet place he knows. He takes off at high speeds. A gentle, shimmering aura surrounds his body. He no longer feels the cold nor the wind, but it's as if he has no body at all. He looks down at the world lighting up in the darkness of night while he flies high above.

He feels like a god.

His angel follows him to a small hill away from prying eyes. He lands while she continues hovering in the air, toes grazing the cool grass.

"You've given me the power of flight," he says, _hoping_ this isn't all a big dream.

"I have given you much more than that." She smiles as she gestures to herself. "I am a high class angel. I have given you wings and arrows. The larger halo on your wrist is your red arrow. The small halo is your white arrow. With these abilities, you are comparable to my power."

He looks at his wrist. "What...are these arrows capable of?"

"Hm. In importance, the red arrow can make any person fall in love with the caster. They will do absolutely _any_ thing under the effects of the arrow, but this is not a permanent thing. As for the white arrow, you have no use for it, so it is not important or necessary."

"That's all this power can give me?" The senior stares at his angel, brown eyes appearing black in this night. "What use is this? I should have died."

"Don't kill yourself yet!" The angel seems uncomfortable displaying fear on her face. "The...white arrow...I cannot understand how useful it could be for you, but the white arrow, when a person is hit, causes instantaneous death."

 _Death._

"Why...would an angel have a murderous power?" the boy says, stepping back.

The angel looks her human with sparkling eyes. "It was something like...euthanasia. It is a happy death. When need be, angels can mercy kill their human. As you may not need to mercy kill your own humans, the power is useless."

The senior takes in her words. The power was in the hands of sensible angels. Now he, a foolish and clumsy human, has the power of demise at his beck and call. "No, this power _is_ useful. Like this, I can kill the unworthy _vermin_ that pollute this world."

His angel gazes at him with half-lidded, confused eyes. "Hmmm?"

"These wings allow me travel faster than any machine invented by humankind. This arrow can let me kill the criminals that cause chaos to this world. It's why I wanted to be in law enforcement. Wouldn't this world be more kind if it weren't for the humans who can't keep their sins in check and must hurt others?" the boy rants, body trembling. "I can deliver due justice myself."

"Oh," she exhales. "I have never used my powers like that before. You are a smart boy. You will make this plan work, no? Now I am happy I chose you for God."

" _God_?" Which religion is right after all? He wants to know now.

"I nominated you for participation in the God's Candidacy test. God slowly dies. Another must walk in His image. We angels recruit from our humans to join." She grins, a small movement. "Are you excited for this? I know you'll be perfect as my God."

God? To be God? To be God and deliver judgement among the world? To be all powerful, all knowing, all intelligent? To have billions of humans and a legion of angels forced to respect and follow his command?

"Becoming _God_..." he murmurs. "Out of the question."

His angel blinks furiously. "H-Hmm?"

"I already have these abilities as a human. I already feel godlike. Becoming the actual man doesn't sound ideal. It's my duty as a human to cleanse the evil of this world. If your God exists, he's done a horrible job at cleaning this world. Sorry, but no thank you."

His angel is speechless. She struggles for words to say, becoming more flustered at her weakness. "O-Okay, I will follow your lead, but you will not have these powers forever."

" _What_? Why not?"

"Your powers only remain for the the duration of the Candidacy test. After it concludes, your powers will be gone with it."

A bitter taste fills his mouth. "I have a limit, right? Then the only thing that matters is that I deliver judgement and justice while I am able. And I must remain in this test until the end. Correct, angel?"

"Yes. I was really hoping _you_ would be my God. Alas, I am content with your happiness." She shuts her eyes and fans herself with a hand.

"Me? Why?"

"Why not? I would not like a faceless stranger to worship. I have had dreams being your servant to command. I guess this is second best."

"You...are obsessed with me, aren't you?"

"Of course I am! I am your guardian angel. I have been by your side since the beginning. I was especially chosen to match your personality - at least a facet of it God predicted. I idolize you."

The high school senior's brown eyes have fire within. "I see. I'm glad you are on my side, angel. Let me show the judgement worthy of Godhood."

The senior summons his mighty wings. Red particles shimmer under the starry sky, highlighting the boy in soft reds and harsh blacks of shadows.

Receiving these abilities far outweighs his suicide. He smirks to himself, idolizing the entertainment eating away at his heart grown cold from boredom.

He takes to the skies, angel at his side, feeling the light of freedom and justice at his command.

 **Chapter End**


	2. Volume I: Judgement

**Platinum Light**

 _Japan's brightest student wants to end it all into the nothingness of death. Unbeknownst to him, where death is, there exists life and second chances..._

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 **Disclaimers:** If you wish to read _Platinum End_ , please support the official release. There is even a reddit about the manga. Think _Mirai Nikki_ meets _Death Note_.

 **Rating:** Teen. Violence and mentions of violence. Language is not a worry.

 **Length:** 3500 words, average 15-16 minutes

 **Notes:** Semana Santa - true story. Happy Easter 2017.

Volume I: Light

Chapter II

 **Judgement**

 _Gordon Hue sipped drearily at his soup. His birthday was going to be a boring one within jail. A part of him regretted accidentally murdering his fiancee, but he was so_ mad _she was ready to ditch him at their wedding. He paid so much money for it. He worked so hard. And she threatened to ruin it for him. Now he's stuck to suffer a lifelong sentence while she gets death. Hue peered into his soup, attempting to see his own reflection. For a brief moment, he saw something white spark from behind. He turned, but nothing was there. Without warning, his body began to shut down. His heart, lungs, muscles - Hue slumped to the ground, watching as his nerves and senses gave out. The last was his mind, utterly horrified and begging for a chance to live._

"You should know this is my room," says the senior, clicking the door shut behind him as his angel lounges in the air.

"It is wonderful being able to finally interact with you. Aren't you glad as well?"

He takes off his school jacket and places his cram school textbooks on the bookshelf. "I've waited long enough. Tell me more about these powers, angel."

 _He slammed the phone into the holder, hoping it would break. The guards surrounded him, shouting, "One more tantrum, Lawrence, and you're going back into solitary confinement!" He glared at the guards hiding behind their guns with hatred. Why did society have to be ruled by the elite? It was not fair; he didn't mind being the figurehead of a rebellious group who went overboard. His mother on the phone hated him for his life choices. He couldn't care less what she thought. He thought about breaking the fingers of the guards combined when his body no longer listened to him. He crashed to the floor, briefly feeling fingers pressed on his neck and claiming he had no pulse._

"Until the Candidates are all chosen, the test has not officially started. Yesterday when I last talked to God, only three humans had agreed so far. Now that you are a Candidate, I no longer have the ability to speak to Him."

The senior turns on the television to the news station. On it, is the weather and other pleasantries that immediately bore him. "How many Candidates should I expect?"

"Thirteen Candidates. This may take some time. Certain conditions must be met in order for an angel to ever meet their human. We cannot simply ask for our human's thoughts about joining."

"So I have more time. I must start immediately." He spins slowly in his rolling chair, twirling a pencil before the urgent anchor's voice cuts through the quiet:

" _Breaking news, 37-year-old Toyoma Hidemaru is reported to be holding a woman at gun point within an exclusive party. Police on the scene are reporting that the woman may be a very famous actress. At this moment, negotiations are being made to save her life._ "

The senior stares with his mouth slightly agape while the angel says sweetly, "That sounds interesting. How can you call this world boring?"

The boy closes his mouth and stands. His brown hair hides most of his expression in shadows. "There is nothing entertaining or amusing about seeing criminals on the news. I feel nothing but disgust." He turns off the television, leaving his room dark.

"What will you do, my human?"

"Nothing. Until I understand these powers you've given to me."

 _"Okazaki Norie." She'd heard her name non-stop ever since she was caught in a convenience store. She had been hidden for three decades after burning half her school. She thought she could rest without the law finding her. Now she saw her old face juxtaposed against her high school face on the news. She had to change her face and name again. Damn the law. She stuffed her black hair under her jacket's hood, though a large wind blew it off. She winced and tried to grab the hood within the mess of hair and snow on her face. The gloves were too thick to allow her to feel the difference of hair and cloth. Her body went cold starting from her back and quickly spreading to her organs. She landed in the freezing snow, unable to move. Her body started burn. It refused to listen to her. Steadily increasing in heat until she could smell burning paper and fabric before her mind was gone._

"I am unaware of any limitations the arrows have," his angel admits, disgusted in her lack of information. "I never used my arrows, other than the occasional white arrow. I know the limits to wings, though, without any inaccuracies."

"It would be helpful to know that as well," says her human, multitasking with listening to her and homework. "Wait a moment, keep that thought. It's dinnertime."

"Dinnertime?"

"Why so confused? You watched me daily."

"Yes, but since you are able to see me now, I was wondering if I should hide so you do not look at me and make your family suspicious," she clarifies.

"It's fine. I'm good at acting. And besides..." He trails off, arriving at his bedroom door. "My little sister is hyper enough to distract me from you." He says that with an affectionate smile.

 _Easter would be coming. Mario begged for this holiday, for it was tradition for his people to release a criminal. He hoped it was him this time. God, he'd done horrible, horrible things under his drug addiction. All he wants is to repent his sins and start anew, first to apologize to the families he hurt. Last they saw of him was a sociopathic narcissist. He was changed. He cried for his mistakes._ Semana Santa _would come and he could be freed - is what he believed in, but he swore he saw wings in the darkness before a white sparkle twinkled and his body was no more._

His mother smiles kindly as her son takes a seat at the table. Her body may be old and growing wrinkles, but she finds the energy to keep her children happy. Her husband works long hours and remains stressed despite her efforts. Though she is glad when her son persists in education and makes their family name shine bright.

"How did you do on the mock exam, dear?" she says to her son, who modestly eats while her daughter looks at him, bouncing in her seat.

"I did well. I'll admit I got bored and didn't perform to the best of my ability. There's room for improvement."

" _Did well_?" his sister gasps. "C'mon! My brother in the brightest student in Japan! To him, _well_ is a 98 out of a 100!" She sticks her tongue out at him.

"You must'nt get bored during a test. It determines your future, dear," his mother says kindly.

The senior beams. "You're right. It's a bad habit I need to stop in order for my future to be great."

 _He was going to die. Die, die, die. It was no secret all the real bad criminals were getting KO'd one at a time. He was next. He committed a horrible crime that didn't bother him until now. He didn't want to die! He didn't want to die! He murdered, lied, and stole all because it was fun, but now nothing seemed fun about them. He begged anyone, any person to protect him from the murderer. His pleas were in vain. As he assumed, he was next._

Crisp. Sharp. Precise. His look, his uniform, his body language must all be _perfect_. Not perfect meaning he is so without flaw, he gives off an air of artificiality, but so that he gives away nothing of his shortcomings and comes off as a normal boy everyone wants him to be. His appearance is highly calculated yet comes off as natural. He can't remember how he used to wear his clothes before appearances became important. He neatens his tie, finished dressing. "Perfect."

"You take the halos so calmly, unlike the others I hear," his angel notes with half her attention.

"You said only my angel and myself can see these halos, so why worry?"

"...when will you make your first move?"

"Once I receive my push." He smiles in the mirror innocently. "Are the rules about your appearance as same as the halos?"

"It is similar in regard to normal human beings not be able to detect my presence. However, I can see other angels and they can see me. Their Candidates can also see and interact with other's angels as well."

His smile quickly falls. "Then you'll have to stay at home. I know it's cramped in here, but it's too dangerous to go out. Are all the Candidates in Japan?"

"Our recruitment location is in Japan because - " She hesitates, is startled by her stutter, and shakes her head. "I cannot finish that sentence because it is classified information."

"Why?"

"Classified." She smiles, enjoying her human's curiosity.

The boy turns back too quickly to be seen as calm. "You will remain here while I go to school. Do not leave. Be careful about windows."

"Call or wish for me if you need my help, or" - she pauses long enough for the human to meet her gaze - "when you're going to die so I can take your soul."

The boy leaves without a response, feeling a barely noticeable weight on his shoulders.

Through the day, time passes slowly. He never expected to be here once again, alive. What was he thinking? _Angels? Power?_ He should be _dead_.

The high school senior stares out the window. Today is foggy and humid. Although visibility is no major issue, the saturated colors begin to bore him. How he wishes he can be flying above the clouds, basking in the sun's light, even if he does not deserve such a freedom. The halos around his neck and wrists are almost taunting him with their bright, glowing red.

"Excuse me, you dropped this." A student sitting adjacent to him has an eraser between two fingers. The senior takes the eraser from the boy's hands with a smile and a thanks. "Hey, how you feel about getting paid to do my homework?" he offers with a huge grin.

"Sorry. Even if I accepted things like that, I'm far too busy." The senior laughs softly and his classmate shrugs, off to chat with his friends. The entire classroom is made up of students who'd given up. It is the last year of high school and with the most intelligent boy in class offering no one any chance at first place, motivations plummeted. Their teacher ignores the disrespect his students show, only concerning himself on those who want to learn. Students like the brightest student in Japan.

Their teacher calls upon the boy. "Will you read verse three, please? State your interpretation of the poem."

The boy picks up the paper containing the poem. It is a specialty of Kipling, one of the most influential poets.

" _A People and their King/Through ancient sin grown strong,/Because they feared no reckoning/Would set no bound to wrong;/But now their hour is past,/And we who bore it find/Evil Incarnate held at last/To answer to mankind_."

"Excellent reading."

"It seems to me Kipling believes it is Germany's time to repent from the events of World War I; Germany must 'answer to mankind' while they are restrained."

"Perfect analysis. As expected of a fine student."

The senior resumes contemplating. Perhaps a God truly exists and this is no dream of his corpse. The poem speaks of _iustitia_ being more important than peace. _I_ _ustitia_ for the dead sons in war, _iustitia_ before negotiations and false promises of armistice. What luck does he have, to be given a poem called _Justice_?

 **. . .Platinum Light. . .**

The senior turns on the news as he reads his math homework, bored. "Angel, what is your name?"

His angel opens her eyes. She rests on his immaculate bed. "My name?"

"I have a request to make, but I don't want to keep calling you 'angel' all the time."

Her lips curl into a smile. "I am flattered you wish to know! Frankly, I was starting to wonder if you would ever ask that! Well, my human, I am the guardian angel assigned to you, the great Fény."

He tests her name on his lips until it sounds normal. As normal as a foreign word can sound in a Japanese accent. "Fény, I grow bored. Let's fly."

Her wings shimmer. "Oooh, let us! My skin hasn't touched sunlight in a long time."

He looks out the curtain. "You'll have to wait longer. It's night."

Fény groans. "We must be flying because it is dark."

The boy can't stop a smile from reaching his face and answers, "I need to tell Mom I'm leaving. Then we can fly." The youth does so and soon the angel and the boy soar through the sky, flying at breakneck speeds to remain invisible. Through the course of his flying, the boy manages to master the technique in one-part hands-on experience and one-part watching a master at work. Flying took up no energy. He can do this for hours if he didn't have to worry about other Candidates spotting him. Flying feels him the sense of control and zen.

The boy lands on a building rooftop, his wings vanishing in red sparks, and gazes upon the building before him: a television on the building's face, showing advertisements and small news intermissions. Fény does not rest on the roof but hovers around the boy languidly, keeping to the shadows. "Are you not happy, my human?"

"I'm thinking," he murmurs, allowing his composure to weaken. "I've never felt this great before. Flying, this ability to bring judgment to the wicked, and even knowing a God exists. I have more knowledge and powers than a human can comprehend. Yet I hesitate in my actions, like the titular character from _Hamlet_. I guess I'm still scared after all."

"Of what? Humans fear death the most. For you to come back from death means you should have no fears."

"You don't understand. Humans feel many states at once. It's very easy to miscategorize our feelings."

Fény sighs, blowing up her wavy bang and revealing her other eye underneath. "Humans are a mess. A confusing mess."

The senior laughs a little.

" _It seems a new fad has arose in Japan_ ," a newswoman reports, sounding normal enough for the boy to ignore had she not added, " _that there is a game for Godhood_."

The senior watches the screen intently. Fény keeps playing with her hair, half listening.

" _Yotsuba employee Higuchi Kyousuke and Japanese man Mikami Teru have both been reporting claiming that they will achieve Godhood, and that any 'Candidates' in Japan should come and see them. Both men have listed official locations on several websites. After the commercial break, police will decide on what action to take based on this information._ "

Advertisements blare as the boy opens his phone, accesses the internet, and browses the names of the men. Both men are already on a web encyclopedia with their locations placed within. Both locations are only reachable via wings. The meet times are set at different days: two weeks from now by Higuchi and 18 days for Mikami.

"What are they _thinking_?" the boy hisses to the hot and heavy night air. "They're going to kill themselves! What Candidate wouldn't take advantage of this?"

"It doesn't concern you and me," Fény adds. "You don't want to be a God."

"Either they're complete _morons_ or they're formidable opponents," the boy continues. "This could also be a trap." His tone changes abruptly. "So, the two other Candidates are Mikami and Higuchi. That brings the grand total to three. If they're both formidable, I have no backup. I could make the two fight each other, however I don't know if they'll betray me."

The boy does not have much choice. Either he remains neutral or takes a stand.

" _We are back on air. Police have decided to take immediate action on Yotsuba employee Higuchi Kyousuke. Apparently this man has been seen flying and has spent a suspiciously large amount of money as of recent. Mr. Higuchi was last seen spotted with a large group of girls after quiting._ "

"Hmmm." Fény observes her human grip the rail, knuckles white and hands shaking. "It could be possible this Higuchi person is using his red arrows."

"Obviously. Can red arrows hurt Candidates?"

"Red and white arrows still work on Candidates."

"Any delays? Exceptions?"

"None. Arrows effect all equally. Except angels, who do not follow the same rules as humans."

" _Unbelievable._ " The boy drops his head on the hands that hold tenaciously onto the rail. "All it takes is for one person to ruin everyone's fun. No doubt Higuchi is abusing his powers. And I can't stop him. Not yet."

"This is odd behavior for you. Are you alright?"

Something has to be done about those _dreadful_ people, not just in Japan, but in the entire world. Someone needs to fix the sins of humanity. The God that exists in this world does nothing at all.

"Only I can do this," he mutters out loud, feeling the resolve strengthen. "I'm the only one capable of this. Think about it: I'm dying of boredom, I have no hope for my future. The least I can do is use these powers to make humanity better in the _present_ while I still can.

"Fény, I know these wings take me just under lightspeed. But what else can they do? Tell me what you know."

Fény observes him, responding, "The aura protects you from any harm during flight. If you move fast enough, the aura and the wings will begin to lose mass to speed up. To keep from disintegrating, you lose a material body. It isn't easy to notice this change, however."

"So that's it? I can work with that." He picks up his head and brings his wrist to his face, the halos casting scarlet light onto his complexion. "I'll get to work immediately. Fény, go home and continue hiding."

She wrinkles her nose at being crammed inside his room before responding, "What will you do?"

He smiles, one devoid of happiness. "I'm going to purge the world of any human worthy of sin. I'm going to do what God should have done." His scarlet wings shimmer behind him. "In 14 days, we'll deal with Higuchi. Until then, I will see you later." He jumps off the railing and launches into the black sky, vanishing.

Fény smiles. "His zest for life...has reappeared."

 **. . .Platinum Light. . .**

For 10 days does the boy kill, using his superspeed to appear anywhere in minutes and to murder criminals all over the world. By day, he is a normal student, a happy and healthy kid everyone wants him to be. By night, he looks up a criminal's name and face and proceeds to murder them.

On the 11th night, the boy turns on his laptop without looking for any criminal names and chuckles to himself. "As expected, the police are very suspicious about criminals suddenly dying. Though their prime suspects are Higuchi and Mikami."

Fény, disliking the bluish light of technology, remains in his bed, combining her hair. "Did you plan for that?"

"I wouldn't call it planning. I just knew that there was a chance this could happen."

"What if this thing called police killed the two humans? Without any more suspects, what will you do?"

"Nothing," he replies, laconic.

"Nothing?" Fény replies, irritated by his mystery.

"I am a simple, average high school boy with no connection to the supernatural whatsoever. These deaths are caused by supernatural powers. Really, there's no reason for _anyone_ to suspect me."

"Oh, good, I don't have to worry about you dying," she sighs in relief.

After a brief pause, the senior adds, "Even L is working on the case." Upon Fény's curious look, he says, "L is the world's greatest detective. He's never lost a single case he's worked on. However, he is going to meet his match. Even a detective as he can't solve a case like this."

The student is ready to leave the room and resume the killings when the screen on his television turns to white and character appears at the center.

" _Greetings, residents of Japan. You may all be a bit skeptical of the game of Godhood going around. Let me say this message is not directed to you. The message is directed to the other twelve Candidates:_

" _I will be God. Kill each other or yourselves, I don't care. As you try to find me, I will take note of you far faster and kill you. Can you hold out for 999 days? I can. This competition is over. Thank you for time._ "

A stupid commercial plays, but the senior stares at the screen mutely. Questions flare in his head, the primary one being _Who is the voice behind the white screen and red omega character?_

Fény lacks the concern the senior feels. "I guess all thirteen Candidates have been picked. From this point on, 999 days remain of your abilities. Please do your best and try not to die within the first 100. Typically, the difficulty is much harder with few Candidates."

 **Chapter End**


	3. Volume I: Detection

**Platinum Light**

 _Japan's brightest student wants to end it all into the nothingness of death. Unbeknownst to him, where death is, there exists life and second chances..._

 **.**

 **Disclaimers:** If you wish to read _Platinum End_ , please support the official release. Do not hesitate to check out this series.

 **Rating:** Teen. Violence and mentions of violence. Language is not a worry.

 **Length:** 3400 words, 14-15 minutes

 **Notes:** Revelations, Chapter 22, verses 12 thru 14. I really want red text, but underline will do. Also, the POV swaps are **not** in chronological order. (It's just to keep the ambiguity up; it's no fun if all the facts are revealed.)

* * *

Volume I: Light

Chapter III

 **Detection**

 _"_ _Behold, I am coming quickly, and My reward is with Me, to give to each person according to what he has done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End_ _. "_

 _Blessed are those who wash their robes, so that they may have the right to the tree of life and may enter the city by its gates..._

To the senior, really, the uppercase omega simply meant a variable for eletrical resistance. Now its meaning has expanded to fill an enigmatic human being who doubles as his enemy. The red omega letter jutting out amongst the white stains the senior's memory.

"That must be _them_ ," he hedges. "That must be L. No one what he or she looks like, sounds like, acts like. Someone as intelligent as him or herself would never publicly reveal. It will be impossible to kill L.

"Fény, what happens when 999 days are up and there's more than one Candidate remaining?"

Her face darkens. " _Don't_ let that happen."

"...alright. You're certain he's in Japan, too? How do Candidates get picked?"

Fény looks briefly unnerved. She bites her lip in thought, continuing with, "Japan is...a place where suicides are high. The _only_ way for a human to enter the test is by suicide. The human can decline the offer and die, but if they find a will to live, they will be granted power."

Suicide. That's what she was so hesitant to tell him ages ago. It makes sense, however that would mean the great L tried to kill himself. For what reason would he do that? It seems so against his character to allow for a suicide.

"Isn't that strange?" the senior confers. "L isn't the person to commit suicide."

"Most can say the same of you," she jests.

He scowls. "I won't believe that," he replies vaguely. An idea forms in his head, sudden. "Higuchi's been quiet, unlike Mikami. It may be possible that L managed to squeeze information out him and entered the test that way..."

"Squeezing information from humans? How disgusting."

"...no, not literally." _Probably. They could have tortured him._ "L could have used that information to join the test."

"If you are sure this person is...L," Fény says skeptically.

"Now I've got to balance my judgement, this test, and finding L's identity. Finding his identity would kill two birds with one stone," he says, naturally using male pronouns. "I'll be able to get rid of this person who wants to find this 'serial killer' and the biggest threat to this competition."

"Isn't okay to let L win? You said you do not want to become God."

"I don't. I'll become a messiah, Fény. But this person who does want to be God is far too mysterious and strange. Tell me you _wouldn't_ want to serve under a man whose face you don't know."

Fény shakes her head quickly. "What is our objective?"

"Well, there's two more days until Higuchi's deadline, but if he's under L's custody, we'll have to resort to the next best thing: getting rid of Mikami. Those two miscreants are _not_ suited to become God."

"I see."

"When I get back from purging this world, I will try my best to dig up information on Mikami. Luckily half my work is done by the police already." He smiles confidently. The Japanese police had been searching up these two men during the two weeks, though it never hurts to do extra research. The senior opens the window to his room, extends his wings, and disappears in a flash of red. Fény goes to shut the window and curtains.

 **. . .Platinum Light. . .**

His eyes begin to ache from scrutinizing the recordings for so long. The sudden onset of pain does little to slow down the pace he works, nor falters or hinders his observational skills. He continues watching the tapes of every death, every deceased criminal who died near a surveillance camera.

"What do you wish to deduce from these recordings?" speaks a voice in a dark corner of the barely lit room. In fact, the only thing illuminating the room is the bluish light of the laptop that covers the human's body.

 _What do I want? I want a clue. A starting point. This is a serial killer who murders only criminals, the really foul kinds, all over the world. Is this killer more than one? Then how come every death indicates nothing to connect a person to; have I been wrong in assuming a person eventually messes up? The criminal goes about a normal day with nothing sinister afoot, yet they die suddenly and quickly. Why is that?_

"If you cannot deduce anything," continues the slightly reverberating voice, "what can you _induce_ from the known information?"

The man doesn't like inductions. He prefers reliable deductions. Inductions are claims created by general data. As such, an induction could be an observation. For example, a dog park full of dogs having female owners leads to the conclusion that all dog owners must be female. However, inductions are as good a place to start.

Because so many deaths happen all over the world, time of deaths vary so rapidly. He can only assume that if one person held a base of operations, the eastern half of the world is suspicious. If the person is to live a normal life within a working day, this person could only begin work after 15:00. This can also rule out countries with longer or shorter work periods, as times of deaths, though scattered across time zones, typically end in reoccurring minutes.

Disregarding hours, the minutes are frequently 23, 30, 47, 50, 56, 58. He has never seen any minute at mark 00. But this information is only related to Monday through Friday patterns without holidays. Should this person be under an 8 to 15 schedule, it then becomes easier to narrow down which jobs end around 15:00 within the eastern side of the world. Therefore, time zones that have an hour difference - no 15 minutes or any of the sort - have deaths line up with after working hours. A death at 12:23 is a country three hours earlier than 15:23. Yes, on a working day, the latest deaths always occur in the eastern half: around midnight. But time of deaths scatter tremendously on weekends and holidays and never on work days, so he _feels_ his instinct must be right somehow.

Based upon the time of deaths, the killer must be working after traditional work hours.

It isn't much of a lead, yet it's a good start. It bothers him he has nothing else to work on. He plays another recording without thinking. His eyes lock onto every minute detail of the prisoner before his death. _Gordon Hue, was it?_ Nevertheless, he does something interesting. He peers into his soup and quickly turns around. Microphones record no sound or movement outside the door despite being programmed to pick up the slightest traces of audio. He must have saw something yet heard nothing. Then Hue dies, like the rest. But his eyes remain searching for something behind him as he collapses, terrified.

"What did you see, Hue?" he mutters to himself, bitting his nail.

"Have you reached a conclusion?" the voice rings, cutting through the silence.

The man replays the tape and slows it down. Hue looks down, turns, eyes focus on a thing before starting to search and he starts to die. Hue was completely fine _until_ he looked at whatever he saw.

"I need more recordings in which the criminals behaved suspiciously before death," speaks the man judging recordings into a small microphone, resting beside the computer.

The microphone makes a pop of static. " _Suspicious behavior such as...?_ "

"Seeing something immediately before death. Nothing else."

The man continues replaying tapes until his assistant finishes reviewing the footage. He receives 3 tapes. The first is a man named Mario. He too saw something before his death; his eyes were firmly latched onto a thing just outside the camera's sight, but the man can tell exactly when Mario loses the sight as he starts to die.

"There's something there that's killing them," he whispers. " _None_ of the files report a person being present; more than two-thirds of the deaths happened when the criminal was alone. But there's something there."

 _An invisible person killing criminals. This couldn't be the work of a God. It's far too humanlike. Why would God allow himself to be caught four times? Why would God have the motivation to do this now of all times, during this game of Godhood?_

Something clicks into place. He makes a choked gasp.

With 13 people with supernatural abilities running around _and_ the deaths coinciding near the beginning of the game, this case and the Candidacy must be interconnected.

He's been looking at it as if a _human_ could be capable of these murders. And if he lined up Japan's time zone, there are several instances of jobs closing at 15:00 or 15:20, leading to the deaths at the reoccurring minutes, but different hours.

"I believe you have made a proper deduction," the voice reverberates, sound hallow in the room.

The man leans close to the microphone. "I've experienced a breakthrough in this case. Get the police ready for this, Watari."

 **. . .Platinum Light. . .**

The evening of the 9th of August, 2003 is spent following in the footsteps of Mikami Teru. This man is obsessed with routine. The police figured it out, the senior easily stole this data and asked about Mikami (albeit nonchalantly) to the citizens who saw him. On Mikami's Saturdays, he would leave the gym after exercising and head to the library. He would remain within this library for 16 minutes browsing the non-fiction section. He would check out the same series made up of 32 books near the end of 16 minutes and return it the following Sunday, book in such a flawless condition it was doubtful he even opened it.

The senior calmly makes his way to the very same book section Mikami had. The series has black covers for all the books, each with white text on the front. All of them proclaim true tales of people who experienced the extraordinary, people who saw spirits and predicted deaths, people who saw what was beyond death and lived, and people who lost it all and gained it back plus more. Each book has a large amount of pages. The senior picks one at random. The library card within the book's pocket only has 3 previous checkouts. This series does not seem to be popular.

The student starts to glare at the book, imagining Mikami pick it up in a fit of routine and willingly want to read its pages. To think someone like Mikami could enjoy this series...He absolutely hates, hates, _hates_ this series. With one hand, he shuts the book. It makes the sound similar to a whip.

He slides the book back in and takes up a book below the series to seem casual. As he opens the book and reads the pages blankly, his mind is working to piece together Mikami. _Why_ did the man concern himself with these tales that sound more false than true? And yet, this is the man who calls himself a God - though it isn't far-fetched. He _is_ in a game for Godhood.

Mikami seems smart despite his initial stupidity. He no longer follows his routine. Perhaps the man was under L's or the police's watchful eyes and that the videos he post online were all fake. Mikami is not like Higuchi; the latter man just completely disappeared. Mikami interacts with the world - just no longer physically. He has watched all his videos, including his newly released videos. But always does a creeping sensation finds his way up his back. No longer can he watch the videos at night, but in day, with his naive classmates.

" _My name is Mikami Teru._ " The high school student scowled at the abysmal quality, as well as the manic look in the man's eyes. " _There are some who knew me as the quiet child in the room. Others knew me as the crybaby after you_ relentlessly _tortured me during my childhood. Depending on your reference, I have either good news or bad news: good things come to those who wait. I will become God and I will_ delete _the useless vermin from this world and make it pure like it always should have been! No one will be able to stop me._ No one."

 _What is this?_ The senior thought afterwards, breathing picking up. _Why does he sound so similar to me? No, no I'm not insane like he is. I kill, yes, but I kill because someone has to. Nobody wants to be the bad guy. Nobody sane, that is. I will never be him. I am not him._

He looked behind him suddenly. It was only afterwards did he realize the reason: his body felt the presence of eyes. It made him watch his angel Fény. She matches his stare with an imperious, knowing smile.

"I know you better than you do," she said. "If you need my reassurance, I think of you as rational and lucid. But I don't know how biased my words are, nor do I completely understand humanity. For all I know, you could be insane. Regardless of what happens, I will be by your side, my human."

"I am _not_ him!" He hit his desk. His pen holder fell, pens clattered on the surface. His anger was so unexpected, he faltered. He paused for so long, his mother asked if he was okay for she heard a loud noise.

 _Why did that bother me? No, it's not important. I need to kill him before his insanity affects me._ He snaps the book shut and replaces it.

As he walks out the building, he recalls Mikami spending 2 hours on trains to get home. He always rides the least crowded trains. The student looks at sunset and deems his journey over. He must return home.

He remembers nothing of the ride home because of how insignificant it feels. He is somewhat cold to his mother as he walks to his room and locks the door. Reliably, Fény lounges in the air, watching some kind of drama on the television. She gazes as him with bored eyes before returning her attention to the screen. The boy takes the time to straighten his appearance. He closes the windows and curtains and turns up the volume so that soft voices blends into the noise.

"Fény," he says quietly, sitting in his bed, eyes downcast. "Am I doing the right thing, killing those people?"

His angel peers at him with her cherry eyes that suddenly dancing with energy. "What is this so sudden?"

"Am I...just like those men on the television?" continues he. "Am I causing more harm than good? Should I just give up?"

Her lips thin into a line. "Obviously I would think not. I prefer this sense of business and purposeness over your hopelessness and almost suicide. Be it good or bad change, I believe the worst sin in life is to do nothing."

"Why...do you think that? You're an angel. You deliver the message of God. Why don't you share his philosophy?"

Fény floats upside down, tilting her head to keep her bang over her eye, unaffected by gravity. "You expect something from me. You must understand whatever you think you know about me and my people is wrong. Or, not entirely accurate. I don't think I can fit your notions of me. I can be myself, though, and from what _I_ think, I want my human happy."

How could he not expect something out of her? Are all the tales about angels lies? It can't all be. What was false or true? Without guidance, the boy buries his face in his hands. "Think of it as this: murder is wrong. Whether it's accidental or intentional, humans don't take kindly to murders. It's one of the three worst things a human can do: murder, rape, and cannibalism. Any one of these crimes wil forever label you as an evil bastard.

"Some humans think murder is murder, regardless of the context or if the murdered person is good or not. But murder is the fastest, most efficient way of getting rid of a problem. Words just don't work, especially when you can't speak their language. Not everyone is willing to listen. Not everyone wants to change."

"I don't understand the problem," the angel says, already bored by the topic. "Murder is an effective way of dealing with undesirable humans, you admit. But it seems that you will become evil because you use evil? Well, I don't really care what that makes you in the end. Good and evil to humans are meaningless things to me. All I see are things humans like and things humans hate. Why bother yourself following selfish ideals made by ancestors? Those restrictions are probably the reason why humans act 'evil' today. They are doing what they like while the world hates it."

The senior blinks at the angel's words. "It's okay to do an evil deed to accomplish good things to you?"

"I don't believe in the concept of evil like you humans do."

"But do you have any morals?"

"Morals?"

"Things you just _won't_ do no matter what. Or things that you will."

"Ah," she beams, "of course I do. Angels _and_ humans have morals, silly. There has never been a word for it before, though."

"So...what are your morals, Fény? What crosses the line for you?"

"That is...too complex a question. I cannot give a simple answer. You cannot do the same either, or else we would not be having this conversation," she answes, dispassionate. "Are you better now?"

"Yeah, I'm better." It feels foreign to talk about his feelings. Uncertainty nags at him, but so does a bit of confidence. He'll continue to pursue his justice. And he won't be a bad person for it, no way. Evil are things humans hate. Humans hate murder and that's the only evil he shall accomplish. Eventually humans will understand the good in his heart and will follows his lead.

He is _not_ like those two men pursuing a selfish, incorrect type of justice. He'll show the world judgement.

 **. . .Platinum Light. . .**

INTERPOL. How familiar he has grown with it. Today's meeting is regarding the international criminal who slaughters criminal after criminal, leaving absolutely no trace. Delegates from dozens of countries discuss on their next decision.

He had more than enough evidence to confirm the killer resides in Japan. No, not evidence, more instinct. But he trusts his instinct. He's never failed a case and he won't start. He's solved impossible cases. This seems the least interesting of his track record, but he'll take it on anyways.

He shows up uninvited. His assistant, his partner in crime, commands the attention of the room, and allows him to speak. They all go silent, acknowledging his accomplishments and achievements.

He turns on the microphone. Greets the delegates. Tries to assuage their concerns before dropping the ball: "Our criminal is in Japan. The game of Godhood rumor runs wild there. If you consider an ounce of it as true and not made up, it could lead us to our killer. It may be possible our killer is more than one person, but the mastermind is most definitely in Japan."

The next question is _where_. How could he lure out the mastermind? Or perhaps there had to be another way? What if he didn't need to catch him in a mistake? However, the delegates need evidence and proof. They are not going to simply trust his words. As he hides behind a computer screen, there can be no one who can trust him completely.

He is not perturbed by this. He fully expected things to not go as smoothly. This case is a supernatural one. Cases like these are notoriously difficult to prove. They may be easy solves, but stubborn people will be stubborn people.

He has a plan. He has a plan, because he is the great L, and justice will prevail.

 **Chapter End**


	4. Volume I: Advance

_**(Reason for delay: eye surgery left me blind and in pain for a while.)**_

 **Platinum Light**

 _Japan's brightest student wants to end it all into the nothingness of death. Unbeknownst to him, where death is, there exists life and second chances..._

 **.**

 **Disclaimers:** If you wish to read _Platinum End_ , please support the official release. Please be wary some scenes are not for kids, so teens and up are advised to read.

 **Rating:** Teen. Violence and mentions of violence. Language is not a worry.

 **Length:** 3500 words.

 **Notes:** How do you feel about headcanons? They _really_ begin in this chapter. Also, let's switch from mystery to thriller and suspense. By the way, I think this series brings out the worst in me. I've had thoughts like, **Stop sittin' there crying and** _ **murder**_ **!** among other things.

(Answering comments cuz I keep forgetting:

1\. I like callin' him _Baka_ hashi Mirai, like another Shinji Ikari, but he's alright, I guess. I find it difficult to read series where the _main_ character hates the scenario he's in instead of embracing it, ergo this. Concept is pretty cool, though.

2\. Awesome username. Two: Light will face off against L and the 13 Candidates. I will do my best to make it thrilling like the original series.

3\. It's not that the police are believing the stories, it's more like suspicion. Criminals are suddenly dying + a game of Godhood? It seems implausible, but it won't hurt to investigate both crimes. I doubt INTERPOL would care about Japan's new fad, though; they're the top dogs in the police world.)

* * *

Volume I: Light

Chapter IV

 **Advance**

Humans will do anything for power, anything for greed. Heck, entire nations were found under the prospect of gold and riches. So why should he _ever_ hesitate to reach untold wealth and success? Because then, _then_ he will never, ever be faced with poverty again. No longer would he have to be cautious about money and settle for the cheapest piece of _crap_ due to his lack of wealth. He could dictate others on how to spend their money! Let them suffer as he once did.

Then he heard the rumors. But "heard" is an understatement. He never liked to listen to others below him, for their words held no weight or meaning. What a homeless man proclaimed on the street meant nothing. What a mother said wistfully about her children meant nothing. Yet as he rode on the bus to work, car totaled from a _stupid_ accident, he heard two girls whispering about "Godhood."

First he thought they were religious fanatics and his lip curled in disgust. Bits and pieces of their hushed conversation entered his ears. He concluded that somehow this sort of "Godhood" could be claimed - that was the rumor, at least. He waited and waited for them to reveal the _how_ but soon the girls got off way before his stop. With cold sweat making his back damp, he decided to pursue them. He put on his hat and played on his phone, straining to hear the girls. In the distance, their school stood. Time was running out. Maybe he should just back down - he could _not_. He was enthralled by the prospect of Godhood.

He saw how cheap their school was built. The earth around the building had fractures, be it from old concrete or earthquakes. He was offended by stepping on the grounds of such a wreck and stopped the girls. He lied to them about knowing that their parents were dirt poor (their faces turned white). He offered them money...on the off chance they gave him information.

The girls were reckless. They grabbed the money after checking no one was around and explained that their classmate told them anyone can achieve Godhood - if they survived a suicide.

At his job, he felt repulsed by the idea of killing himself and failing to do so and for falling for a stupid rumor as well, made by poor girls. Even so, his hands itched and burned, his mind roamed, if the suicide didn't work out, there would be no harm done, right? Needing to calm his mind begging for answers, he called an ambulance and stared at the bathroom mirror. Pill bottles lined the sink like he had an addiction problem. Well, he certainly _had_ a problem, to be swallowing pills while his co-workers ate...If the hospital was 15 minutes away while this quantity of pills could cause death in 7 minutes, he waited until 10 minutes passed, poured a wide array of pills in his hand, and gulped to wet his dry throat.

The pills were cold and slipped in his grip with their smooth surfaces. He hoped he wouldn't be put on suicide watch or anything god-awful as that. A part of him remained livid at the suspicion this thing was a lie made by some angsty teen.

"If I die, least I don't gotta see beggars anymore. Don't gotta see my stupid co-workers. Don't gotta see...myself anymore." Before his confidence could falter, he swallowed the pills, choking, shivering at the cold tablets crawling down his throat. His heart rate shot up. The edges of his vision started to go black. _What had he done to himself?_

"This is not your time to die just yet," called a voice, deep and sending trembles down the man's spine. "I understand you better than yourself. You haven't had problems with living in a long time."

He looked up and saw something that _had_ to be a hallucination. Between his gagging and his shivering, something resembling a male with encompassing wings - pointed and white like canine teeth, having a dark green aura surrounding its contour - radiated above him. Looked like mold gone wrong. Everything about its presence felt amiss.

"This suicide is a fake suicide. I am not required to save you...were it not for my talent." The being's eyes were bottle green and looked sickening. "I'll keep you alive _only_ if you accept my offer.

"Yes, you'll participate in the Candidacy, Kyousuke. I want _you_ to win most of all," the thing smiled.

 _I never should've killed myself. Never should've..._

He's been locked up, limbs and neck completely immobile despite him insisting he never got wings. He would have escaped now. All Higuchi listens to are his guardian angel's delusions or the questions a warped voice demands him answer.

 **. . .Platinum Light. . .**

The audience watches the performer with a mix of disbelief and fear. The performer bows deep and grandeur, trench coat slightly billowing in the small breeze, and he smiles wickedly. He flicks his wrist, beaming at the trick up his sleeve.

"Someone has been killing all the criminals," the preformer says, smile stretched too wide. "I wonder who that could be? What's his name?... _Kira_? How stupid of you all! What kind of name is that? It will be forgotten to history!"

The audience seems terrified, sensing the fine hold the man has on his sanity.

"And so? What do you think I am? I can control your minds with a gesture. _What else can he do?_ you wonder."

The performer meets the eyes of one audience member. The member's eyes are full of guilt, just as it should be with sinners.

"What else can I do?" He pays no attention to the answers he receives. He spreads open his fist. Beyond the audience's eyes is a glowing shape remnant of the three-dimensional kite polygon. It is transparent. It glows white. It hovers just above his fingertips.

Eyes locked on his target, he wills the arrow to go

\- the boy's eyes see a sparkle...before his body goes completely numb. He falls, no one attempting to catch him - ah, they back away - and it does not hurt. Nothing hurts besides the fact he's dying. It was going to be his 18th birthday tomorrow, and still...

The audience shrieks. The ones who did not see what happened start screaming and straining to see the scene. Multiple people have their phones on and recording.

"He died! He died!"

"That's one elaborate joke, what the heck?"

"There's no heartbeat! Oh no..."

"I posses the same ability. Whoever this wannabe God is, I will not yield to you!" thunders the man, above the crowd. "Tell your friends, tell the world, I am Mikami Teru. I am God and I will deliver due justice!"

"This guy is completely nuts...!"

"Call the police! Call anybody!"

"I'd rather be led by Kira than you, jerk!"

"You are not aware that just last night, that a teenaged boy, now dead, killed a person in an attempt at robbery! My justice is quick and immediate! Do you dare depend on someone's whose judgment is _late_? You prefer men to be trapped in cells while I can deliver divine punishment immediately? _Do you?_ "

A new form of terror seizes the audience. What can you do when the insane start to make sense?

Fulfilling his purpose, he extends his wings covered in a purple gossamer and launches into the sky as light.

 _Who is this person? Are they trying to make me seem weak? Make me seem like I'm not the God of this world? I won't allow it. I will visit every Japanese citizen and show them my supreme justice! I will destroy you, red omega. Or shall I say "Kira?"_

 **. . .Platinum Light. . .**

 _White arrow. He has the white arrow. His angel must be -_

" _L, regarding the recent video, what do think of it? The police are beginning to suspect Mikami Teru is not Kira, nor is Higuchi Kyousuke_."

Watari's voice momentarily startles L. "I suspected the same. Though Mikami appears to be able to kill in an unusual way: instantaneous death. Same as Kira. Either they do work together and his performances are red herrings, or Kira and Mikami share a similar power," he rattles off, glad to share his thoughts with another human.

" _I see. And regarding the police? They want to know without doubt Kira lives in Japan._ "

"I know. I've been thinking."

" _Any thoughts, if you mind me asking?_ "

"I have a few. Nothing much to put into words."

Mikami's little stunts has gotten his mind whirring. All L needs is to lure him out in a place no one else _besides_ a native could know. Unfortunately, Japan isn't tiny. There are many places to check and secure. What if Kira misses L's stunt? No, that can _not_ be a possibility. He has to be like Mikami, attention-grabbing. If the crazy man could summon a mass of hundreds, L would have to summon a few thousand. And with that, an idea is born.

 **. . .Platinum Light. . .**

 _Things are becoming complicated_ , the high school senior thinks, walking up the steps to his home and slipping inside. His mother and sister greet him from the kitchen. He waves back, seeing Fény drifting in the hallway.

In his room, the angel blurts out, "Ever heard a thing called K-drama?"

"Korean drama? Is that what Sayu's watching? Good grief." He powers on his computer, ready to search for more criminal locations.

"At first I was offput by all the melodrama," Fény continues, uncaring if he listens, "yet my emotions were prey to the drama. I could not stop my heart from aching. It was impressive, I will admit. I very much disliked not being in control, but for something to affect _me_ like that is a notable feat."

"And how about the way I make you feel?" the boy responds, half listening.

"You are my human. Of course your actions affect me very much. As I said, I wouldn't be much of a guardian angel if I hated protecting you."

"It's invigorating how the police struggle to figure out the culprit," he hums. "I haven't felt this alive in so long. I'm being myself. I'm not evil like those men, I'm _myself_. And the world will become a better place for it, Fény."

"Ah," she smiles, "it makes me happy to see you are living again."

"If I were captured, no bonds can hold my powers. I'll escape and resume my efforts. Even if it's only 999 days, I will make an impact."

"Mm-hmm," she agrees, missing the hidden tone under his words.

"Fény," he calls, his brown eyes as dark as midnight, "would you do anything for me?"

"If that is what it takes for you to become God," the angel says carelessly.

"Would you kill someone if I told you to?"

He waits in silence for his angel to respond. She seems tired of topics that do not provoke immediate interest. She combs through her hair and responds, "Yes."

"Would you kill Mikami for me?"

"Oh, that. No. Angels are not allowed to interfere that directly in the Candidacy."

Disappointment feels bitter. "Understandable."

"You could be eliminated. I wouldn't want that. Did I upset you that much? You are not usually this oblivious."

"Oblivious?" he sputters.

"There is a massive flying _contraption_ outside, more ominous than airplanes and other flying metals."

The senior rushes to the window and gazes up.

He sees red like the color of Fény's eyes. It is massive. It hovers above his neighborhood in silence, tethered to a building off in the distance with a cord withstanding high wind speeds. It is a gigantic blimp with a white capital omega plastered on its body, the amount of surface area taken up magnifying its importance.

 _Red Omega is just outside his doorstep._

"Fény, hide! What if he sees you from here?" the boy whispers harshly. Fény ducks away from the window with a sour look. The boy returns his attention to the blimp, scanning it for any kind of movement.

" _I have returned, the almighty omega now in the sky. I have brought with me news. Thanks to my previous broadcast, seven challengers have attempted to find and kill me. As I am still alive, it is easy to understand what happened to the others challengers. They never knew what killed them. Never knew who I truly was. But as that leaves us with approximately five more Candidates, let's hasten this game to my Godhood, shall we?_ "

Once again on his screen is the same white background with the same character in the center.

"Seven Candidates dead? Fény, can you tell?"

The angel's lips are small. Her eyes are focused in another world. "That can't be right. It hasn't been long since the start. Surely we can't be down to five..."

 _She doesn't know either_. How can he react to this, without all the pieces of information? What if Red Omega lies? What if all 13 Candidates have not been located yet? Obviously whoever has the most information is the most powerful person. _L, you bastard, I know it's you! What are you playing at?_

" _Within the blimp that covers Tokyo, Japan, I have 7 criminals onboard, each armed with either wings, arrows, or both. Each of these 7 criminals will be released to cause havoc on the public. I will not stop until the remaining Candidates force their weak wills to face me_."

"Oh my," Fény whispers. "He knows the secret. You are free to steal powers of other Candidates once they die. Their power is yours until you give it up or die."

The senior gazes at the television, pale.

" _You may not know this. Killing the criminals will only return the power back to me. I will find more criminals and release more. Are you aware of the time limit that a human can have your powers before returning to yourself? 99 days._ "

"99 days?"

The senior watches his puzzled angel with interest. "Is he wrong?"

"Rules have never interested me much. I prefer following whatever I like most. I can't remember if his words are true." She hesitates, wanting to add more but remains silent.

" _So come on and face me. I know of three Candidates already. Higuchi is in custody, the careless fool. But he knows he can escape with his wings. And Mikami, do you want to fight me? Show me your strength? What of the infamous Kira, who despises criminals? Surely you'll kill me now. But as you watch your screens dumbfoundedly, I will release the criminals starting now._ "

The screen changes to doors located somewhere in Japan - certainly not on that blimp - and one person exits. Halos, like angels, cannot be seen by non-Candidates. However angels can be seen by other Candidates. Halos have selective visibility, but Candidates can see halos as well.

The senior sees a golden halo hovering around the criminal's neck: the halo for wings. Wings alone cannot cause damage. But a criminal armed in dangerous weapons can cause fatalities being faster than human speed and matter itself.

He launches into the sky. The senior's gut twists knowing some criminal is now free to murder people for 99 days or death.

 _No..._

"Undoubtedly clever," Fény comments, not entirety positive or negative. "Should you act upon this?"

Another criminal comes through and the senior knows this person. Haruga Shinsuke is on his hit list for shooting random crowds of people who provoked his pet peeves. On his wrist are two halos: red arrows to manipulate and white arrows to kill whenever he wishes. Instead of flying off in bravado, Haruga steps away with a cocky smile.

 _No. No._

" _Do you still not try and fight back? Useless. What if I had an innocent, then? I'll give them a power they can't begin to understand. I will red arrow my criminals to kill this innocent. Will you act then?_ "

The innocent that steps through the doors has a halo around his neck the color of waterfalls. He walks with a hunched back and dirty clothes. His hair is wild and unkempt.

" _Shall I give this man a name? Would a name give you nightmares of how you Candidates did nothing while he dies for you? Who is truly the worst person here? This man is known to many as L Lawliet, the great detective._ "

L stares at the camera that watches his person with empty eyes, dark shadows pronouncing the lines of the exhaustion on his otherwise youthful face. A surgical mask hides the lower part of his face.

"Wow!" Fény holds her cheeks. "I am impressed Red Omega has captured your enemy! He seems far more productive than you. Unless...do you have flying machines as well?"

"That can't be L." The senior's fists tremble. He's losing _his_ control and _his_ confidence. Knowing everything is supposed to be _his_ thing. Intelligence defines him as a _person_. Intelligence cannot solve a situation such as this where there is little to no information to work with. "That - That has to be a proxy or a stand-in! Red Omega is L! That is a phoney!"

"Yes, yes, your evidence-less assumption. What if he isn't L? That is still an innocent that will die. If you consider L to be only a statistic, what is the use of saving one person while millions die daily? It is all right if you chose nothing. This person means little to you."

One innocent shouldn't matter -

It isn't about the innocents, it's about the boy's growing need for a sense of control and dominance. He feels weak. Helpless. He doesn't _want_ to feel this way. He doesn't want to not know anything. His plans are slipping through the cracks.

"Human? H-Human? Ah, - " A voice the sound of bells calls his name and he awakens.

Red wings shine as red as the blimp outside. The boy dashes to the sky, quickly reaching lightspeed to become a formless blur of color. He aims for the tether keeping the blimp still. The velocity of near lightspeed shreds the fiber. But it won't do to just _release_ the blimp. He searches across Japan to find Red Omega's hiding place: a lonely island building in the middle of nowhere. "L" is surrounded by three more criminals who are prepared to murder him under the effects of the red arrow. Without hesitation, the boy kills the criminals and leaves "L" to survive. He is an innocent. There would be no use in killing a face he knows nothing about. The boy quickly flees to his room before cameras can catch his appearance.

Meanwhile L saw the white sparkles even under a blazing sun. The criminals around him collapse, dead. He is not.

 _I see..._

The camera before him turns off. L immediately turns on his microphone.

"Gentlemen of the police station, I have no reason to doubt our Kira resides in Japan. Thanks to the scare of the man hiding behind omega, Kira definitely operates in Japan. There can be no doubt. Our broadcast was shot in one place, in complete Japanese, and our location found within ten minutes of broadcasting. We will immediately consider establishing our headquarters in Japan."

 **. . .Platinum Light. . .**

Things were supposed to be so much better in Japan. Ever since he was in high school, he wished for a Japanese family of his own. He worked for his dream and it came true. It was like a fairytale.

But now, now some kind of serial killer resides in his homeland. He refuses to leave Japan and this case. He is an enforcer of the law, no matter if the world thinks it is above it. He refuses to let this case, and by extension, the world, down.

Soichiro Yagami is the Police Chief of the _Kira Investigation Task Force_. Working beside L (who dabbled into the rumors of Godhood too much for his liking) and police forces from all over the world, he is confident Kira will be caught soon.

Tonight, he rests for the first time in two weeks. He makes it home, wiped out, and finds himself at the dinner table. His wife looks loving and patient. His daughter is enthusiastic. His son looks after his education and father proudly.

"How's school going, Light? Still studying to become a police officer?"

His son smiles into the cup of tea. "Actually ever since Kira happened, I'm really interested in becoming a detective. Rumor has it L is working with you all. Naturally he or she takes the most difficult and unusual cases."

"Ah. I think you'd make an excellent detective, son. I believe in you."

"Thank you. As corny as this sounds, I already feel satisfied with everyone believing in me."

His daughter teases her brother. His wife scolds her playfully. Soichiro, in all his delight and carelessness, fails to see his son's sly look to an divine angel that hovers above the table, silently watching.

 **Chapter End**


End file.
